


Waiting and Hoping

by still_lycoris



Category: Victor Frankenstein (2015)
Genre: Anxiety, Canon Compliant, F/M, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 12:38:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9182176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris
Summary: Lorelei watches over Igor after he escaped from death.





	

When Igor arrived on the doorstep, Lorelei thought he was going to die.

His face was a ghastly colour, he was soaking wet and he was shaking from head to foot. She couldn’t get any sense out of him either. The only words he managed to splutter out was something to do with Victor but nothing that sounded logical. Lorelei decided that the questions could wait until he was a little drier and warmer.

But even when he was a little drier and warmer, there was very little to be got out of him. Someone had tried to kill him, she could work that much out and that was why he had been in the Thames which was why he was dying.

She knew how dangerous the Thames could be.

The Baron let her call a doctor, paid quite willingly – he had thought she looked happier now that she had Igor and if she looked happy, that was all that really mattered. The doctor calmly examined Igor and then told her that if he made it through the night, he would probably live.

Lorelei let Igor lie on her bed and watched him shiver and cough. She wanted to be angry, to blame that idiot Victor for whatever had happened but she knew that wouldn’t help Igor. She wanted to cry but she thought that might even make it worse. She could just sit with him, hold his hand and pray. 

“Don’t leave me now, Igor. Please.”

But he didn’t answer. Perhaps he couldn’t answer.

The hours ticked by. Sometimes, Lorelei dozed but mostly, she just sat there, watching Igor sleep. When he woke, she would try to talk to him but he didn’t answer. She wasn’t even sure that he was really awake. Perhaps he was still asleep, only with his eyes closed. She’d seen people like that at the circus, quite often. You could get so exhausted that it was the only thing to do.

Oh, she was so afraid for him. She’d always liked the little clown, even if she’d never really spoken to him. She was ashamed that she’d never tried to help him before, even though she knew that she’d have made no difference – in fact, her paying attention to someone so lowly might have been a channel for _more_ abuse. Or was that just an excuse she was telling herself? Just something easy to say to explain why she had never really spoken to him until Victor Frankenstein had stolen him, cleaned him, given him a name and a life. No wonder he had Igor’s adulation. What person wouldn’t in that situation?

If Igor survived the night, she would never ignore him again. Or anyone in trouble. She would do things differently.

If only Igor survived the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 12dayschristmas


End file.
